


Darling Our Love Was Destined (But Not To Be)

by Mr_Dadamy_Blake



Series: But Only For Tonight [3]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Overdose, abusive dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 00:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12287181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Dadamy_Blake/pseuds/Mr_Dadamy_Blake
Summary: *This fic does contain the depiction of accidental overdose and abusive dynamics, albeit a little elusive in nature.*All Jack wanted was a choice. Any kind of choice. Who he loved for example.





	Darling Our Love Was Destined (But Not To Be)

**Author's Note:**

> ***This fic does contain the depiction of accidental overdose and abusive dynamics, albeit a little elusive in nature.***  
>  This one took me a long time to finally get out. It's a monster compared to the other two. Because this is Jack and the way these stories are formatted I, of course, included the overdose. And his and Kent's relationship wasn't a healthy one when they were kids, so I don't see why that would change even if they were born with the tattoos included, I tried to make it apparent with out straight up calling Kent a villain. Neither of them were good for each other, but for the sake of a soulmate au I think they have a chance to heal and grow and be nice to each other in the future, mindful of each other and with much better coping mechanisms that don't hurt anyone.  
>  **if there is anything that needs to be tagged and hasn't been please let me know.**

“Good morning, maman.” Jack mumbled as he answered his mother’s phone call.

“Did we wake you up, mon cheri?”

“Père,” Jack breathed out. With a hum he turned on his back and stretched out with a groan. His eyes were closed but he could feel the light from the street lamps filter in through his barely opened curtains. Or maybe it was the sun, Jack didn’t want to open his eyes to figure it out. “Non.”

His mom’s laughter harmonizes with his dad’s. It made Jack smile lazily as he turned around and slung an arm to other side of the bed. For a moment he forgot that Bitty wasn’t actually there. He’d left the night before as late as he could because he had finals coming up and he needed the study time. It made Jack open his eyes and frown a little. Street lamps. The sun wasn’t quite out yet but it would be soon if his clock didn’t lie to him.

“Maman, père… why are you calling so early?” There were only a handful of reasons why they would bother being awake before the sun was up and before Jack went out for a run. None of them were good and with that Jack sat up straight in bed.

“Well we wanted to catch you before you went out on your run, son,” Bob said. He sounded entirely too casual for it to be anything _too_ bad so Jack forced himself to stop thinking about the endless possibilities of bad news.

“It’s nothing bad, we promise,” Alicia tried soothing. “We just wanted to know what plans you and Eric had for his birthday.”

“Euh… I have to be at the rink pretty much all day today and tomorrow for a franchise event and Eric has to study for a final and go to class. So I was thinking about spending the weekend with him at Samwell,” Jack took a deep breath and told his anxiety to shut the fuck up. He was speaking to his parents about his boyfriend, he didn’t need to be thinking about dead relatives.

“Fantastic!” Bob said. “Clear up whatever plans you have Sunday afternoon we’re taking him out for a nice belated birthday dinner. Of course… unless you have something _very special_ for him.”

“ _Papa,”_ Jack’s eyes widened at the implication. A couple of years down the road maybe, but not now. _Not_ during finals either. Bitty would never get any studying done if he did that. “I- I woul- _papa!”_

“Don’t listen to your father, mon cheri.” Alicia said. Jack could hear the smile in her voice. With a more conspiratorial tone she added, “He likes to think he’s funny.”

 

_His eyes are… hell, Jack doesn’t really know what color his eyes are. They were grey one moment and green the next. But all that did was make Jack never want to look away from him. They haven’t been formally introduced yet, his last name is Parson. And he’s. Jack doesn’t want to think about it._

_Jack does anyway. The freckles are adorable. They pop out as the others say something to him that makes him turn red. Jack wanted to go up to him and stare at him all day. He has a feeling that that would be a little too weird even for the ‘hockey robot’._

_Jack went to leave the rink instead. Parson skated up to him, “Hey, my name is Kent. Kent Parson.”_

_“Jack Zimmermann,” Jack found himself saying. It was stupid the guy probably already knew. He was stupid. He shouldn’t have said anything at all, but that would have been weird too. Kent’s eyes were blue right now. A dull, muted blue, but they shone with something. Was he making fun of Jack?_

_Jack made to leave. Kent Parson stopped him again, “Hey Zimms? Wanna hangout sometime?”_

_“Sure,” Jack answered before he could stop himself. “You can come over, if you want.”_

_He left the rink in a hurry, he might just do something embarrassing if he stayed longer._

__X_ X_X__

“Hey Zimmboni.” Jack turned around at the sound of Marty’s voice calling for him. He doesn’t say anything but by the looks of it he doesn’t really need to. “It’s your turn to do one of the dumb challenges. Come embarrass yourself with Tater.”

“Tater embarrasses himself enough for everyone,” Snow howled from the trainer’s room. He didn’t even have any pain. Snow just liked annoying the poor guy.

“Snowy is only embarrassment I’m see.” Tater shot back easily from the kiddie table, completely proving Snowy’s point. Jack smiled a little at the exchange. He walked up to the table and immediately regretted it. Admittedly, Lardo had taught him a trick or two when it came to drawing, but that didn't mean Jack wanted to do it for everyone to see.

The PR lady pulled him by the arm and lead him to the tiny table. Jack was safe on his knowledge that even though he would look ridiculous sitting at the kiddie table, literally nobody could look goofier than Tater. Tallest guy on the team, after all. It only brought a tiny bit of comfort. Jack doesn’t understand what the point of the challenge is but the PR lady says that the fans like it when they do challenges, so Jack shrugged mentally and took a seat.

Lardo’s artistic need to teach the entire Haus to be semi decent at drawing paid off when he draws something that _at least_ looked  like a falcon. Unlike Tater, who proudly displays… well… _something_.

“Hell Zimmboni what _can’t_ you do?” _Exist calmly,_ Jack supplied in his head. If he were in the Haus that would have been his answer, but he wasn’t so he didn’t.

“What else did you expect, he went to a liberal arts college.”

“I feel like I should remind everyone that I was a history major.” Jack leaned forward and waved at his team. “Besides, Tater definitely won. It’s… _abstract._ ”

“So Tater tot’s the next Picasso?” Snowy howled, slightly muffled from the now half closed door of the PT room.

“I was thinking more Jackson Pollock.” Jack smiled a little and Tater in a fit placed him in a headlock.

“I’m thinking I’m selling art, will be making millions yes?” Tater practically yelled in Jack’s ear. Jack felt the laughter bubble up from the pit of his stomach as he struggled against Tater’s noogie. The PR lady left the room sometime between Jack’s Pollock comment and Tater tipping the table they used over.

_Jack woke up to the burning sensation right next to his armpit. His entire arm, except for that one spot was numb. It served to jump start Jack’s anxiety as he stood up and turned his lights on only to find nothing. So, clutching his arm close to his chest he stumbled to his parent’s room. His vision blurred the further he went._

_“Maman, Père,” Jack leaned heavily against the door. He doesn’t realize the door is open until a pair of arms are around him. The pain simply grew, “papa.”_

_Jack comes to in a bed. The room is blindingly white and the pain that had woken him up before completely gone. It took him a moment to look around and realize he was in a hospital room. He makes a fist of his arm and nothing. No pain. He did it again, fully expecting the burning sensation to come back. Maybe if he continued doing it the pain would resurface, so he did. Jack wanted, needed to know that he hadn’t imagined it at all._

_The door opened. Jack snapped his head up to see his parents walk in. It should ease the voice inside his head telling him that he’s dying. The way his parents absolutely glow at him as they walk up to him. No one looked at their dying son like that. Unless they didn’t. Ok. Right now? Not the time to stew on that. Next topic on hand. If he’s not dying then what the hell happened last night?_

_“Mon fils!” His mom wrapped her arms around him carefully. “How do you feel?”_

_“You scared us son.” His dad patted him on the shoulder carefully._

_“What happened?” His parents looked at each other and  the longer they took in figuring out how to answer the more it cemented in Jack that he was, in fact, dying. Or going to die, which. If he thought about it, it… Didn’t sound so bad. He was tired. He was tired of feeling, tired of waking up in the middle of the night wondering if he would ever be good enough. Tired of the comments, of the expectations. Tired of every decision being made for him. Tired of everything._

_They take too long to answer. The doctor walked in holding a clipboard and laughing at something one of the passing nurses said._

_“Haven't checked?” The doctor smiled, it should be proof that Jack isn't dying. But hey, what would his anxiety do if it didn't ignore every single useful fact that would help shut it the fuck up?_

_“Checked what?” Jack asked. He looked over at his parents. His mother touched his right bicep with a small smile. He looked down but didn't understand what was so special, he already looked. His arm was fine._

_It was fine._

_Jack lifted his arm, the motion pushing the sleeve of the hospital gown back. There it was. In bold beautiful cursive. Like it belonged there. His stomach rises up into his throat. He wasn't. He didn't._

_“What?” Jack doesn't sound like himself now. He can hear it now. The after effects of all his screaming. The vile pushing to come out. He thought he was free. This was the one choice he had left. The one thing nobody would expect him to comply with._

_He was wrong._

__X_X_X__

Jack's dad insisted that they go running together. It was something that was slowly becoming a ritual between the two of them. Sometimes the runs were quiet, it was always hard to control your breathing and talk at the same time but sometimes they would use the time to catch up. An effort to correct past mistakes.

This was one of those such times. So much happened in the past week to both Jack and his father. The media, as always, sticking their nose in places it didn’t belong. It was a tense morning, with his father in the middle of a ‘love affair’ scandal that wasn’t true and Jack in the middle of the usual ‘caught drinking at a party he wasn’t even at’.

“Who was it this time?”

“Apparently,” his pere pants, “Your mother is in it for the young guys.”

“Doesn’t answer anything.” Jack grunted.

“Chris Evans.” Jack cracked a smile. “What about you?”

“Shits threw a grad party for the guys. It was,” Jack started slowing down. “Quite the outcome. Some pap caught me with Bitty’s confiscated beer.”

His dad shook his head and finally in the half hour they’ve been running cracked a smile. Jack, knowing his mission was accomplished looked away from his dad with a satisfied look. The run from there on out was in companionable silence. And he was happy that for once his mind didn’t insist on ruminating on the negative of everything that’s happened. He was content with enjoying his dad’s company and the knowledge that his mom and Bitty, who decided against joining Jack on his run, were waiting for them at Jack’s apartment.

It was a good day so far.

_“Hey,” Jack startled, “I thought we were supposed to hang out yesterday? Not cool dude.”_

_“Oh,” Jack stared straight ahead. His right arm itched and itched the longer he refused to look Kent’s way. They weren’t soulmates, they couldn’t be soulmates. They were not soulmates. It burned. “Sorry, I was… busy.”_

_It fell flat. Maybe Kent would go away, maybe he would decided that he wasn’t good enough, to stuck up. A_ legacy _kid. Who was Kent to him? His soulmate. But they weren’t. Because Jack was born without a mark. Jack was mateless. Jack had one thing he could choose for himself._

_“Look man, if you didn’t wanna hang out… you coulda just said.” Kent sounded. He. it burned. It burned so much, Jack wanted to vomit. He turned to look at Kent. His face was blank but to Jack it was obvious. Kent was upset._ Jack _made Kent upset. It was. It felt off putting. Was this how all soulmates felt? Kent turned around, the conversation was over after all._

_“I was in the hospital.” Jack decided was the best thing to say. Kent froze. “I’m sorry.”_

_Kent turned around in a burst of speed. It reminded Jack that Kent was the best on the team. The quickest._

_“Shit man, that’s. I’m.” Kent floundered for a little while. It made Jack smile. “My mom says hi.”_

_It startled a laugh out of Jack. He leaned back and it felt. It was like a million tons had been lifted from his chest. Was this what having a soulmate felt like? “Mine does too.”_

_She did._

__X_X_X__

It was a quiet afternoon in the Zimmermann household. For once Jack had both of his parents present. His dad on his offseason and his mother with no urgent pressers. It felt appropriate,Jack thought, to drag his parents into the living room and turn on the Lion King. Jack loved that movie, Timon and Pumbaa reminded him of his uncles Mario and Gretsky. And the King. The King was his papa, with a roar so mighty and a presence that would last in the memory of the hockey world forever.

His mother was a lioness. Ever since he saw the movie for that first time he’d set himself to learn everything about lions that he possibly could. And at the end of it all, his mother was _the_ lioness. She was beautiful, she was sleek, she would tear apart her prey. When mean press people said bad things about Jack she was always the one yelling on the phone. Reminding everyone that he was just a boy, a kid. Jack didn’t feel like a kid. Just like Simba didn’t feel like a lion.

Regardless, Jack wished that he could have his little family together like this all the time. Just the three of them in their pyjamas and pancakes in the living room. He wanted to have his dad _still_ picking him up effortlessly and pretend roaring like a lion and when Jack would remind him that Rafiki was who picked Simba up his dad would simply make monkey noises. He wanted that every day.

During the season his papa was always too tired and during movie times his maman would be too busy. Sometimes they would even make him dress up. Go into public and act like someone he really wasn’t. They kept telling him that he was Simba, the rightful heir to a legacy he didn’t ask for. At times it made him feel excited that he could be everything his parents were but. Sometimes it felt like too much weight was being placed in his shoulders. He didn’t like it.

“Do you want to go skating this afternoon, my little lion king?” Jack’s maman’s fingers fluttered against his ribcage and he struggled to get away from his parents with a high pitched giggle that sounded more like a scream.

 

_Seeing Kent everyday sets into his bones like he’s always been a part of him. It becomes intoxicating, every second spent with him makes Jack never want to leave. Something inside him, though, doesn’t let him show Kent what exactly is on his arm. He wants to fall for Kent, and let him take over every part of his body and his mind. Because being with Kent means being in the eye of a the hurricane. And everything that’s wrong with him is still there but can’t reach him. Jack can’t let himself fall. He needs to find a way first to figure out if Kent would have been his one even without the words on his arm._

_He wanted to be sure that he wanted Kent for Kent. But how could he even begin to be sure? When the moment he and Kent made eye contact Jack was gone?_

_If the pain of denying his soulmate the knowledge that he was it made Jack feel, for once in a very long time, unmuddled and weirdly free of anxiety. Well. Could he be blamed?_

_It didn’t help that Kent always sat so close, always looked at him like he was about to say something important. Always went out of his way to be with Jack. Like an addict. Like having a soulmate was an addiction. Jack couldn’t help but be afraid of it. Did he want this? Did he want to sit next to Kent on his back porch, staring silently down at how the sun reflected off Kent’s wild blond hair or how the afternoon sun brought out Kent’s freckles even more, when he was supposed to be staring out into the yard? For once feeling like nothing in the world could be wrong? The simple answer? Yes._

_But admitting that meant letting go of the last shred of independence Jack felt he had._

_The barrier of angry, dreadful thoughts comes down and the eye of the hurricane is quickly becoming part of the ocean. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “Kent?”_

_He lifts his arm and bares his soul and doesn’t relax until he feels a pair of chapped lips pressing against his. Jack is drowning._

__X_X_X__

Jack called his maman the night Kent showed up with the Stanley Cup and a smile so huge that Jack wanted to fall into him like he used to. He can’t shake the feeling, though, that Kent is only here to show him what Jack can’t get.

“Jack please, just talk to me!” Kent pleaded. Jack turns away from him. His hands are shaking and there's tears in his eyes and Jack. Jack can feel the pain begin at the pit of his stomach and flourish throughout his entire body forming a harmony with his accelerated heartbeat.

The only thing left for him to do after having failed to control himself alone was call his mother. That was why he was sitting against his the door to his new bedroom. The haus for once oddly quiet, a blanket of tension and confusion oozing through the cracks of the door, suffocating. It didn’t feel liberating, like it had when that hurricane closed in on him, when he let himself be engulfed.

“Maman?”

“Jack, darling, are you ok?” Was Jack ok? Was this ok? Kent showed up. To the one place that didn’t remind Jack of him, of what they were, could have been, weren’t. The memory of Kent’s smile slipping, his grip on the cup slacking, and the way his amazing weird eyes turned to brown under the shadow of his frown.

“N-no, Maman, maman, he was…” What. “He was here. Kent was here.”

“Oh, Jackie… I need you to breathe with me, ok honey?” her voice is calm, and soothing, and Jack wishes she were right there next to him carding her hands through his hair like she used to when he was a little boy and neither one of them knew what to do or what was happening. But she wasn’t. She was on the phone, exaggerating her breathing so that Jack could hear.

They stayed quiet for a while, both of them just breathing.

Jack focused on the pain. How it burn and insisted. How it seemed to pull at him, telling him to get up and follow Kent. _Go to him. GO TO HIM NOW._ No. He couldn’t. With the pain of the longing and distance also came the pain of knowing the last words Kent said to him. Back then, _fuck you Zimmermann. You’ll never amount to anything._ There was so much more.

“Jack? Jack keeping breathing with me, ok? Just focus on your breathing with me.”

And Jack does.

 

_Jack doesn’t know how it happens but he and Kent are getting whisked off the ice and into the coach's office and there’s people talking over them and around them and at them but no one is really explaining what was going on. Jack can feel Kent’s hand slipping under the desk, resting casually as possible, hand open, palm up. He glances at Kent and doesn’t know what’s going on still. He takes the hand and feels anchored. Whatever the hell these people are talking about it doesn’t matter all that much anymore. Kent did that. He wondered if it was the same for Kent._

_The word soulmates leaves one of the person’s mouths and Jack’s eyes snap up._

_“Are you two soulmates?” The person repeated. His tone was serious, as if the world depended on the answer._

_“Does it matter if we are?” Kent shot a look to Jack. Permission. A question. Do we tell them? Should they? Jack doesn’t understand still why he’s being asked such a personal question by people he doesn’t know._

_“Where are our parents?” Jack remembers being told, once, twice, more like it was drilled into him. if he ever had any suspicion that something was wrong, that he needed to get his parents as quickly as possible. “Why are you asking us that?”_

_“Well,” one of them says, “there’s been a rumor going around the press that you two are soulmates. And that that attributed to your success as linemates. If it’s true we need to know. For the fairness of the game.”_

_“We’re not saying anything until our parents are here.” Kent said. Jack let go of Kent’s hand and crossed his arms. He didn’t want anyone knowing that his hands were shaking. It makes him feel guilty when Kent sent him a worried look but Jack didn’t want him to know. This meant they might not play together, it meant that maybe one of them would have to give up hockey forever. It meant, Jack would never make Kent quit hockey. But the thought of it, the thought of it made Jack want to vomit. He’s been working so hard to get to where he is. It seemed unfair. Yet._

_Yet, Jack couldn’t help but feel relieved in a sense. Being unable to play hockey not because he wasn’t good enough, not because he couldn’t handle the pressure, or live up to Bad Bob Zimmermann’s legacy but because some asshole thought it would be unfair for soulmates to exist within the same team? Even with Kent at his side he never thought he’d be this relieved to have a soulmate, if it meant he left hockey not because he wanted to or needed to but because they forced him to._

_The commentary wouldn’t be about how Jack ruined his chances but how the world ruined them for him._

__X_X_X__

Eric Bittle is one of the most annoying little shits Jack has ever had the displeasure of meeting. The kid couldn’t even stand up straight at the beginning of the semester but somehow Jack was supposed to play on the same line as him? The hell he was.

No matter how much he argued with the coaches, they wouldn’t hear it. He was stuck with this kid on his line. So the first game they played on a line together was a shock to him. He hadn’t played or communicated that easily since Kent. There was only one solution.

“… Papa, this kid can’t even take a hit.”

“A lot of player get blocks, it a dangerous sport. Injure someone hard enough, hell even your Uncle Mario would have trouble taking a hit if he were 5’6”.”

“This is different.” Jack sighed. To think his own father was taking this kids side. Jack was only finding it harder to keep his frustration down.

“You asked for my advice.” his dad said. Jack dragged a hand down his face. He hadn’t, but he has a very big feeling that he was going to get it anyway, “so I’m giving it to you. You’re his captain, Jack. You have responsibilities towards your team, if you think this Bittle kid isn’t a good player, doesn’t bring anything to the team, talk to your coaches about it… although, if they’re putting him on the first line they obviously think he potential as a player. Help the kid out, in whatever way you think is best, to get him out of his mental block.”

Jack hated when his dad was right.

That same night Jack set up three different alarms to make sure that he would get up early enough to get Bittle to the rink and run him through a checking clinic. If Bittle managed to get past his block, he _so_ owed Jack for it.

 

_Kent. Kent. Kent. The light was filtering in through his curtains. Kent stayed the night before and was currently hiding his face in Jack’s chest. He felt like a cat, with nowhere to be and nothing to do. He felt. Sluggish, relaxed. In love. So in love. It scared him almost, how it stopped feeling like he was drowning, how it felt like there was no hurricane in sight for once in his life. He was floating and in love and his parents promised that neither one of them had to stop playing hockey nor move away from each other and the world knew who his soulmate was. That wasn’t even the best part._

_Kent was right there next to him, so tangible, breathing in, and slowly tightening his grip around Jack. A clear sign that despite his best efforts Kent was awake. It was bliss. Kent pulled away ignoring Jack’s grunt at the action and stretched. The sunlight hit him in just the way that every freckle splattered across his face was visible. His eyes this grey color that only seemed to show when Kent relaxed and was happy. Jack did that for him._

_“G’morning,” Kent whispered, he should be sleeping on the inflatable mattress on the floor. But there he was being pulled back into Jack’s arms._

_“Good morning,” Jack whispered back. It was bliss._

_Ethereal._

__X_X_X__

Kissing Bitty was probably the best thing in Jack’s world to date. Soulmate and all. It wasn’t intoxicating like Kent was so long ago. Somehow, it was better. Not a _need_ like breathing air or having Kent close by or winning a game. Not nearly close to exhilarating. Not fun like Camilla or needy like Tom or teasing like Bryan and Susie. No, this was coming home. It was coming home after a grueling day, it was leaving your shoes at the door and your jacket hung. It was seeing his friends every day, it was having no other expectation than existing in the same room as the people he loved.

It was slow and burning and calm. It was floating underwater but not drowning. It wasn’t a hurricane, or a storm, or a volcano eruption. It was bread rising, the heat slowly building to create something instead of destroy it. Kissing bitty was the best decision he’s ever made. And Jack gets to have it because Bitty is kissing him back.

And _God_ , he’s being selfish when he wishes that Bitty never finds his soulmate if he hasn’t. Jack pulled away but immediately pulled back in. It wasn’t enough, it would never be enough but there wasn’t that need for immediacy. There was no rush. They had time, all the time in the world.

Until he remembered he had people to meet with and not taking Bitty with him was probably harder than any class or check he’s taken.

“I’ll text you.”

Jack wonders if it’s too soon to say I love you.

 

_Jack wonders why it’s so hard to be Kent’s soulmate as they’re yelling at each other. It was a day where nothing seemed to be going right for Jack. They lost the game, one that should have been so easy to win. They should have won, Jack should have brought in everything he had. H should have been better. Kent doesn’t understand, He’s never understood._

_“What the hell is your problem Jack?”_

_“You are,” Jack snarled. He was taller than Kent, it was easy to push him back against a wall._

_“What the fuck did I do to you now?” Kent snarled right back. It was always that way with Kent, what now, what now? As if Jack’s problems weren’t problems, as if Jack never mattered. “Is this about the game? Jack it’s just one game. It doesn’t matter.”_

_“This isn’t about the fucking game. This is about you. It’s always about fucking you, Kent. As if you’re the fucking center of the universe or some shit.” Jack pulled away from Kent. He looked confused for a second but Jack knew how well Kent could cover everything up._

_“Pot meet fucking kettle why don’t you?” Kent moved with Jack, not letting him create distance._

_“Don’t fucking come close to me.”_

_“What like this?” Kent presses himself against Jack. “Fuck off Jack. One game doesn’t make your future, you fucking sore loser.”_

_“We wouldn’t have lost if it wasn’t for you. I told you not to do that play and you did it anyway.”_

_“Oh fuck off, we had the fucking opening and I took it. Are you fucking mad because I made a goal and you didn’t Jack? You do remember that you’re not the only hockey player on the ice right? You have a fucking team! It doesn’t matter if you were the one to make the goal or not they had the upper hand.”_

_“Because that STUPID PLAY PUT HALF OUR LINE INTO THE SIN BIN,” Jack pushed Kent away from him. His mark burned and he wanted to say something that hurt Kent. He just wanted to hurt Kent. “If this is how it’s gonna be the entire time then I wish I would have stayed markless.”_

_“You don’t mean that,” Kent tried to close the distance. Jack stared him down and Kent pulled away with a flinch._

_“You fucking think I don’t?” Jack slammed the door on his way out. He needed to be alone, he needed to think. But he couldn’t think. He was spiraling again, he needed to up the dosage. It wasn’t working anymore._

_Jack took the pills off the ledge above the sink dumping five of them into his hand and dry swallowing them. If they stopped working he needed to up the dosage. He needed to think. He couldn’t think. Just up the dosage._

__X_X_X__

It’s a normal Saturday night by all means, he and Bitty were finally able to meet up for a day and just be together. That morning they spent the entire time in bed, only getting up when their stomachs began to growl and food became less of a suggestion and more of a necessity. Jack won’t ever forget the way that the sun hit Bitty in such a way that he seemed to glow. In that moment, Jack truly believed he’d fallen in love with Apollo. As if he himself were Icarus, burnt and fallen, and still looking up at the sun with such adoration that it almost hurt. Every kissed he peppered across Bitty was like coming home. Every touch from Bitty burned and healed and burned again.

But the day is almost over and neither one of them left the apartment or changed out of their sleeping clothes. Overall Jack wished everyday could be like this. He wished he could stay in between Bitty’s legs chirping him for wanting to watch Investigation Discovery while Bitty chirped _him_ for wanted to watch the conspiracy marathon on the history channel. He leaned down to nip at Bitty’s neck and while he was distracted took the remote away from him.

Jack moved away to lean his back on the opposite end of the couch, entangling his legs with Bitty’s so that he had trouble trying to get to the remote. He changed it to the history channel with a smirk, feeling as he did how Bitty’s foot dug into his calf in retaliation.

“That just not fair Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty pouted and crossed his arms but the longer he tried to look sad and angry the more the smile tried sprouting. Jack chuckled.

“What is it they say?” Jack chirps, “All is fair in love and war?”

“Don’t you go using overused nonsense Mr. Zimmermann.”

“Of course not Bits.” Bitty launched himself to get the remote and in the speediness of it all Jack relinquished. They settled back down, legs entwined again, to watch whatever true crime episode was playing at the moment and Jack was happy. So incredibly happy to let Bitty win.

Until Bitty pulled away completely. Jack frowned, knowing immediately that something was wrong as Bitty tucked his feet under himself. And Bitty used those dreaded words, so Jack pulled the remote away from Bitty and turned off the TV. And just as Jack’s anxiety starts telling him that Bitty doesn’t love him anymore, that he’s going to break up with, _what did you do wrong Zimmermann? Wasn’t everything going great? Maybe just for you. Maybe you were being selfish and-_

Bitty says I love you so many times in the span of half a minute that Jack has to remind him there was something Bitty wanted to tell him. When Bitty pulls his shorts up to show the expanse of skin covered in some unintelligible writing, he understands. He understands why Bitty lied for so long. Hell, Jack lied half of his life about his own mark. He thinks it might be worse for Bitty because at least he knew for the longest time that he didn’t have a soulmate until that wasn’t true anymore. Bitty, Bitty has his so close to him and so far away at the same time it must torture to never know if someone is your soulmate. Jack couldn’t imagine what it must be like.

The longer he looks at the more he ghosts his fingers over it the more he notices the scars, feels the bumps left behind, right on top of Eric Bittle’s soulmate’s name.

“What, happened to it?” Bitty doesn’t want to tell him and Jack leaves it alone. He doesn’t want to cause him more pain, “I love you. Bitty, I love you.”

Jack would say it over and over again until Bitty believed him. Until Bitty found his soulmate and if Bitty wanted even after he found them. Jack is going to make him feel loved, like he deserves all the love he can get.

 

_“Come on Jack, let’s go.” Kent pulled forcefully on Jack’s wrist, willing him out the door. “You promised that you wouldn’t be such a sore fucking thumb and go to this party with me.”_

_“I don’t really want to go, Kenny,” Jack said, he pulled back slightly to no real avail, “There’s too many people, my anxiety-“_

_“Goes up with too many people,” Kent snorted, “I know. But you_ promised me. _Don’t you keep your promises?”_

_Jack felt tense and a little guilty. He was telling Kent to go alone, despite Kent’s complaint that it was never fun without him there. So Jack let what little fight he had left in him and let Kent lead him to the used Toyota corolla his dad bought him when he got his license._

_“C’mon it’ll be fine. You’ll probably even have some fun,” Kent continued. Jack let out a sigh and got into the driver’s side._

_“Fine but I’m not drinking.”_

_“Fine—” Kent struggled with his seatbelt – “fucking party pooper.”_

_X_X_X_

“Bitty?” Jack cut up the vegetables Bitty handed to him moments ago. He was almost done, just needed to rinse them out a little before letting Bitty take over.

“Yes, sweet pea?” Jack let the familiar and warm feeling take over him for a moment, it was his favorite pet name. But that wasn’t the point. The point was telling Bitty something about himself only his parents and Kent knew. He was starting to feel suffocated thinking about it so he took Bitty’s hand and pulled him towards the balcony, maybe the cold air would help him. “Sweetie, the food.”

“It—” Jack took a deep breath and steadied himself – “It can wait.”

“Sweetie?”

“I need to tell you something,” Jack said, “something I’ve never told anyone. I think you deserve to know, with everything that you’ve told me… it’s only fair.”

“Jack, honey, you’re scaring me.”

“No. shit, euh, you know how Kent is my soulmate, eh?” Jack stumbled through his words and let himself grip the balcony rail tightly.

“Yes?” Bitty placed a hand on Jack’s arm. Jack looked down at him and almost forgot what he was trying to do as he focused on Bitty’s eyes. How the sunset made his eyes look a couple of shades lighter and while they were beautiful always they were a different kind of mesmerizing in the oranges and reds of the sun.

“You know I was a premature baby, well. I was also born without a name.” Bitty gasped, his grip on Jack’s arm tightening with surprise.

“But—”

“Sometimes, very rarely, if a baby is born prematurely and without a mark it’s because they haven’t fully developed. So the mark shows up later, it can be weeks or months. If it’s been more than a year, people usually assume the kid is mateless.”

“Oh, honey,” Bitty whispered. Jack wondered if he guessed where he was going.

“It turned into a comfort, to not have a soulmate, to be able to make that choice myself. But one night when I was fifteen,” Jack took in a deep breath. He was doing this. It was happening. Bitty wasn’t recoiling in terror. “It was the most painful experience in my life. No broken bone could compare to how it felt. Late marks are kind of like being branded but the pain is more… visceral? I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t really remember much from that night, just that I was scared shitless and that the next day I woke up in the hospital. Funnily enough I had plans to hang out with Kent for the first time. We had _just_ met.”

“Meeting him set it off?”

“That’s what the doctor thought.”

Bitty launched himself at Jack. Tears were in his eyes and Jack realized that he was crying a bit too. He never talked about it. Never felt the need to. Every word that left his mouth lifted a ton off his body. He didn’t feel like he was lifting the world up anymore. He wondered if it was because it was Bitty or simply because he told _someone_. Maybe it was because Bitty understood in some way what it felt like to think you’re never going to meet that person. To convince himself that he didn’t want to. That it wasn’t important in some way or another.

“You said you never told anyone, does. Does that mean Kent doesn’t know?” Bitty pulled away, his big brown eyes widening so much that it worried Jack a little that they would pop out. Jack was guided back into the apartment slowly, the sun now fully set.

“He does, intuitively I guess.” Jack shrugged. “It never actually came up and I didn’t feel like it mattered at the time.”

Bitty frowned. Jack hoped Bitty wasn’t mad at him or anything. It looked like bitty wanted to say something, opening his mouth but closing it immediately. A question, probably, dying to burst through. Bitty shook his head and pushed Jack gently onto the couch and went into the kitchen to turn off the stove and oven.

“Shits is coming over.” Bitty plopped into Jack’s lap. “He’s bringing Thai”

Jack answered by shoving his face into Bitty’s chest and laying them down so that Jack was on top of him.

_They told him he had the world in the palms of his hands, that he must have it so easy because he was Bad Bob’s son. That Jack could change the tide with a snap of his fingers. It felt, instead, like the world was rested on his shoulders. He felt as if the oceans worked twice as hard to drown him when all he wanted was to breathe. Like the weight of the world crushed his back, his lungs, his heart. All he wanted was to be anyone else. To sleep once without worrying that he will topple over and destroy the world  because he was too weak to hold it up. They told him he was Zeus but really he must be Atlas._

_They told him that the pills would do that for him. That if they stopped being effective to up the dosage. And he did. When one wasn’t enough. Then two. Then three. Then six. It wasn’t enough. Eight where. Ten. The bottle._

_When he woke up his parents are sitting next to him. Eyes red, with bags so big Jack knew they haven’t slept in a long time. How long? They jump up from their seats and almost suffocate him._

_Where’s Kent?_

_His mark burned._

__X_X_X__

With time and distance, Jack begins to feel horrible for what he said to Bittle. He was sitting across his dad, who was happily chatting away about his most recent publicity stunt and about his plans for the upcoming anniversary. He couldn’t really think about anything other than the look of hurt on Bittle’s face as Jack demolished his achievements. All because his dad complimented the boy. Well, Bittle was a man now. Even if he looked twelve at times.

“Are you ok Jack?” his dad asked. Jack looked up from his plate. His dad had been yacking along about some big charity event or the other.

“I’m fine, papa.”

“Yeah, and you were listening too.” His dad said easily. “Was it something about school… maybe a teammate?”

Jack snorted. Let it never be said that his father was as subtle as he was observant. He set his fork down and rubbed his face with it. How does he explain that he was so bothered by his father’s attention on Bittle that he had gone and ripped Bittle a new one?

“A teammate.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” That seemed to be enough for his dad. He went back to talking about his charity event and this time Jack listened.

It wasn’t brought back up until they were done with dinner.

“So, this teammate…?”

“It’s just…” Jack started. “... It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“I was stupid. And I have to apologize.” Jack looked down at his shoes and his dad patted him on the back. His father nodded letting the conversation fall into companionable silence.

_Jack gets the first call and the second and third and fourth at around five in the afternoon. He also gets the first voicemail and the second and the third and the fourth. He watches Kenny’s face fill his screen. A cropped out picture where they were embracing like their lives depended on it. At one point Jack’s life depended on it. The closeness of Kenny. The way his fingers ghosted over his knuckles. The way their breath intermingled. The way their foreheads touched on warm afternoons in Jack’s backyard just after practice. Both of them sweaty and so in love._

_Jack couldn’t face him. Couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment in Kenny’s voice. The way his lips shape the words he wished his parents would say out loud, “you’re a disappointment Jack. An addict. You're not worth it. I wish you weren’t my soulmate/son.”_

_So Jack let the first call go to voicemail, and the second and the third and the fourth. By eighth he turned his phone off._

_In a week Jack has a new phone with a new number._

_His mark burned._

__X_X_X__

The south is suffocating in many ways. Most of them ways Jack didn’t think it would be. The people stared, and not because he was just signed on a hockey team. Barely anyone here knew hockey even existed. Muchless kept track of that years rookies. _Rookie_. Jack should have been a veteran, one of the old guys. He was twenty five he should have been so many things. Not a historian that played professional hockey and was thinking about a masters and a ring or a house or both. They stared. Saw he was different and they didn’t like it. In the few whispered conversations he’s overheard they called him Bitty’s friend. But it sounded wrong; like there was something else they wanted to call him.

_Funny._ They wanted to call him funny and peculiar like they did Bits. Like something was wrong with him. And to a lot of them what he and Bitty were _was_ wrong. There was a handful that didn’t care. Jack hung to them like he did Bitty late at night despite the heat. Jack thought what heat was but Georgia brought it to an all new level.

He smiled as bitty let out a small huff in his sleep. He loved to tease him about it. _Revenge,_ he would say, _for all those times you made fun of me last winter Mr._ It was great. Everything was great even when it wasn’t. Jack just hoped the future held love for Bitty. He deserved it.

_Jack didn’t see Kenny again for another year. He grateful for his kids, they helped clear his head and for a couple of months Jack thought he could do it. He could coach kids for the rest of his life and never want anything else. He could settle down and live his life, never disappointing anyone ever again. His kids would love and maybe. Maybe one day he would be able to bare looking Kenny in the eyes again. Maybe one day the words they said to each other wouldn’t sear holes in his head and heart and they could be happy and in love again._

_When he told his therapist about Kent it was short, concise. “We loved each other,” he would say, “but looking back, we weren’t the best, we were mean and. And too dependent. I. we needed to grow up, I still do. There’s so much growing up I need to do.”_

_He kept that in mind. Or at least tried to, when Kent showed up at his door step just days after he won the Stanley Cup. There was so much growing up that needed to be done._

_It was a battle, Jack defending his land. His team from Kent. While Kent stood at the door frozen in between sentences just like Jack was frozen between steps. Later when he looked back he would know that the team was cleared out by Shitty almost immediately. In the moment Jack didn’t care or know if there was anyone there._

_“What are you doing here?”_

_“I wanted to celebrate.” Kent blurted. It hit jack like a bulldozer should this haus. Celebrate? Why would he celebrate here? Did he want to rub it in? What the hell was Kent doing?_

_“What the hell.” Jack growled. He turned away from Kent and felt his mark burn with each step he took._

_“Jack please,” Kent followed him. Of course he followed him. “Let’s just talk, I haven’t seen in you or heard from you. All I get is Bad Bob trying to excuse you. I’m your soulmate DAMN IT.”_

_“What do you even care? You don’t want anything to do with me remember? Rather we weren’t soulmates.”_

_“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry if I hurt you back then, we were kids. I was just a kid.”_

_“So was I.” Jack snarled. He was at the entrance of Johnson’s room and he slammed his hands onto the door frame and grasped tightly. “Just leave Kent.”_

_“Jack…” Kent looked like he want to touch him, to hug him, to press his forehead against Jack’s. Like they used to. “I miss you.”_

_“Please leave Kent.” Jack grit his teeth, knowing that his resolve was waning._

_“Fine.” Kent said, all fight leaving his body, “Fine. I’ll do what you want. Like I fucking always do.”_

_He watched Kent leave. And he felt a hand tug at his jacket and slowly he’s being pulled into Johnson’s room._

_“You can’t go after him yet. Neither of you are ready for that.”_

__X_X_X__

Jack asked Tater to go with him to his apartment that afternoon, after kind of explaining what Bitty needed of him. He was glad, elated that he had. He felt accomplished in a way because he accidentally united a pair of lost soulmates.

“Is me.” Tater had said. And Jack was happy. He really was. So why? Why did it feel like he was missing a part of him now? Why did he feel like Alexei stabbed him a couple of times with his words? Why did he need air?

Bitty found his soulmate, the person he was supposed to be with for the rest of his life. The one that Bitty never thought he would get to have.  Jack thought he had more time. He needed more time. He wasn’t ready to let Bitty go. He didn’t know if he ever would be. How could he? Bitty brought so much light into his life. What would he do without it?

But it made sense, didn’t it? That Bitty and Tater were soulmates. They were both so friendly and happy and selfless. They would balance each other out, look out after each other. They were perfect. They were soulmates. And Jack was once again left in the dust.

“Honey?” If it weren’t for the hand pressing firmly into Jack’s forearm he would have missed it. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Jack doesn’t want to ruin his moment so he said, “it’s nothing really, just wanted to give you two privacy…”

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann,” The pressure on his arm tightens and Jack just knows. Bitty isn’t buying what he’s putting down it takes everything in him to breathe in deeply and just. Tell him Jack’s thoughts.

“You found him. I know how much it's affected your life. You found him, I knew you would. But. But I thought I had a little more time. Bitty, I thought…”

“Honey, _Jack…”_ Bitty pulled him closer, hesitated a couple of centimeters away from him. He gave Jack a choice. A kind of take me or leave me. Jack took it. He leaned down and kissed him and. And he needed air again but it was different this time. \

Bitty pulled away, “this isn't goodbye. Jack, he might be my soulmate. But I love _you. You're_ the one I want. Unless, unless you _don-”_

_“_ Eric.” Jack lowered his head until they were touching foreheads. “I love you too.”

 

_He remembered what Johnson told him that day years ago, that it wasn’t time. And as Jack watched the clip of Kent punching out a pap over and over again, he knew. The time was now. Something in him told him and Jack found himself buying a plane ticket and calling George asking for her to give him an extra free day. It took a lot of needling and multiple promises but soon enough Jack was on a redeye to Las Vegas. He tried to call Kent a couple of times. The irony isn’t completely lost on him and he doesn’t leave a voicemail._

_Jack almost popped his stress ball on the plane at least three times. And then a couple more times in the taxi and then once more when he’s putting it away in the hotel. He resolved to keep it relatively ok for a year and he would do so. When he’s in the lyft taking him to Kent’s apartment he regrets leaving it behind because he has to be mindful of not breaking skin with his nails._

_What was he doing? Kent punched one guy. Said one thing. And Jack went calling? He tried to call one last time on the way over. He gritted his teeth and put his phone away. What was he going to say? I miss you? I love you? Does he love Kent?_

_He knocked on the door. Kent stood there looking like a ghost. Half the person Jack usually imagines in his mind. There are circles under his red eyes and brows are furrowed. His mouth tilted downward in a way that made it seem like Kent never smiled. For a moment he looked older than he was._

_“You’ve been avoiding me.” They both flinch at the words. They both know it’s unfair. But they were young and they were stupid and. And. Jack can’t go on without his soulmate anymore.  He needed Kent in his life just like he did Bitty. Well, he needed him differently. Jack wanted Kent in his life in a different way than what they once were but just as much as he does Bitty._

_He wonders if Kent could one day help him choose a ring._

 

 


End file.
